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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25533142">Microscope</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/elldotsee/pseuds/elldotsee'>elldotsee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Anniversary Ficlets 2020 [22]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Father-Daughter Relationship, Little Rosie - Freeform, M/M, Parentlock, Sherlock is a Good Parent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:41:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,278</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25533142</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/elldotsee/pseuds/elldotsee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and Rosie spend the day together. Sherlock teaches her the tricks of the trade.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sherlock Holmes and Rosie, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Anniversary Ficlets 2020 [22]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1807645</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>108</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>10 Years of Sherlock</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Microscope</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Real life happened and I got a bit behind on posting. But fear not! This series will still be completed before the end of July :-)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Daddy?” A little voice loudly whispered nearly inside his ear. Sherlock groaned and rolled over, opened one bleary eye.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmmmrgh…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Daddy!” Rosie was so close her features blurred when Sherlock tried to focus on her face. Their noses were nearly touching. “Daddy!” She said again, her voice rising both in intonation and volume. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opened both eyes, squinting in the golden light filtering in through the curtains at her face, bringing his index finger to his own lips with some effort, as he was still muddled and uncoordinated from being woken from a deep sleep. Next to him, John snuffled in his sleep but didn’t wake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the matter, Ro? Are you ill?” He whispered, peering at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rosie shook her head, causing her messy bedhead hair to fall in her eyes. She brushed it away with an irritated scowl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! Daddy! It’s Sat’day! You promised!” Her pleading grew closer to a whine. Sherlock felt her small hands scrabble at the sheets beneath his elbow. He slid one of his hands out of the covers to hold hers still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I did promise. And I never break those, do I?” He squeezed her hand. “And, Ro… it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> Saturday, but only barely. The sun is still asleep. We can’t do our practice until the sun is awake.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes grew wide, her mouth downturned into a frowny pout. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>John stirred, and Sherlock felt the shift in the air as he came fully awake, his voice a groggy mumble. “Rosie? Darling, what’s wrong?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s all right, John. I’ve got it.” Sherlock pushed himself up to sitting as he spoke, sliding out from under the duvet and tucking it back around John’s shoulders. He leaned over and gave him a kiss on his forehead. John’s eyes were already closed again, content that his husband had the early morning parenting under control. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rosie hadn’t moved, watching her daddy fumble around in the pink-tinted glow for his dressing gown (on the floor), his mobile (plugged in on the side table) and his slippers (one under the bed, one near the window). She bounced on her toes, excited now that she’d got him out of bed at her beckoning. Sherlock sighed inwardly at his own softness. Though he and John took it in turns being the indulgent and firm parent, he had certainly never been able to deny her inquisitive nature and her lack of patience for something exciting was an obvious trait of his that she’d learned. It still shocked him after six years how many of her traits she had so clearly adopted from each of her fathers. She was the poster child for the nature versus nurture debate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her stubborn John streak flared to life as she folded her arms over her chest, clearly cross with how long it was taking him to come to life. He chuckled, shooing her out of the room with the hand that wasn’t holding his right slipper, and mouthed ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>go! I’ll be right there!’. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled his eyes at her exaggerated tiptoeing from the room, turning to fuss at the curtains, pulling them firmly closed to ensure that John could have a lie in, if he so desired. He’d been working hard at the clinic all week, covering for Sarah’s maternity leave. Earlier in the week, Sherlock had told Rosie that they could have a Daddy-daughter day on Saturday to give John a chance to rejuvenate. John had suggested that Sherlock teach Rosie some of his “ways”, as she’d lately been showing a much more intense interest in their joint profession. She’d been thrilled with the idea and had counted down the days til “Sat’day”, eager to spend quality time with her daddy, and delighted that she was finally old enough to learn such adult things. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock followed the sound of cereal being poured, making straight for the coffee maker as soon as he stepped foot on the kitchen lino. He’d need coffee for this. The clock on the stove informed him that it wasn’t yet five. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rosie’s face lit up like the sun at the sight of him, and he couldn’t help but return the smile as he measured out coffee grounds and water. She sat at the table, happily munching away on her cereal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok—” She started, with a mouthful of Cheerios. Sherlock shook his head and pointed to his own mouth, indicating that she should first chew and swallow before speaking, a habit that he had yet to break in his own forty-three years of life. She rolled her eyes, but finished chewing hastily and raised her bowl to her mouth to slurp at the milk before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok. Daddy. Drink your coffee and then come here. I want to discuss our plan for the day.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got a plan already, do you? ‘Course you do.” He chuckled, turning on the coffee machine and pulling out a chair. He swung his leg over the seat, resting his chin on his hands on the back of it. “Alright, we’ll let it brew while we </span>
  <em>
    <span>discuss.</span>
  </em>
  <span> What’s the agenda for today, little miss?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She regarded him very seriously for a moment with her dark eyes and looked so much like John that he couldn’t help but smile. She scowled, thinking he was teasing. She hated to be teased. He was tempted to reach out and ruffle her hair, but she hated that now even more than teasing. Instead he schooled his expression and pointed at his microscope, sitting at the opposite end of the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shall we begin with the microscope while we wait for the rest of London to wake up?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rosie tapped one finger on her chin, looking to his face first to check and see if he was still teasing (he wasn’t), to the microscope, and then to a crumpled sheet of paper that Sherlock hadn’t noticed before. It had been torn from a spiral-bound notebook and was covered in her untidy scrawl. She ran her finger down the pencilled notes until she found the line that said ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>mikraskop</span>
  </em>
  <span>’. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” She nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I see that list? What else have you got on there?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded again, sliding the paper over to him. He studied the list, smiling a bit at her inventive spelling. She had thirteen items written, ranging from learning how to use his ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>mikrascop</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ to ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>deduckshuns’. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your coffee’s ready, I think, Daddy. Can we start now?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely.” He stood to collect his coffee, spooning in some sugar while he pointed with his elbow at the microscope on the table. “See the switch on the side? Flick it on, the light will go on, that’s it, good girl. Now get comfy, I’ll show you how to adjust the eyepiece in a moment.”  </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>“Oooh, perfect!” He exhaled excitedly, motioning for Rosie to join him on the landing. She nestled in between his arms, pressing close to his stomach and peered around the doorjamb at John, who was asleep in his chair, his head propped on one hand. “Let’s deduce Dad, yeah?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could feel Rosie wiggle and he pressed a quick kiss to her hair. “Steady on, tell me what you see.” Sherlock whispered in her ear, smiling when she giggled, his breath tickling her cheek. It was nearing dinnertime; they’d spent nearly the entire day out and about in London, observing and deducing people. They’d stopped for lunch at a fish and chips shop and Rosie had been impressed when he had deduced the owner’s entire life story, even his name, as confirmed by the owner himself a few moments later when he’d come to chat. Upon learning that Sherlock had cheated and already knew the man, having helped him with some petty burglaries a few years prior, she had squealed in indignation but got her comeuppance when she recognised a teacher from her school and told Sherlock all about her three dogs, claiming that she had “really good special kid eyes” and could see the different colours of dog hair, even from five metres away from where they were sat on a park bench. All in all, it had been a great Daddy-daughter day, and Sherlock found himself already excitedly anticipating their next one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rosie was pointing and motioning for Sherlock to bend down again so she could whisper in his ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad’s tired.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock nodded but quirked an eyebrow at her. “Yeah, well done tiny detective, but I was hoping you’d go deeper.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stuck her tongue out and Sherlock could see her eyes roving the room, taking in every detail she could before she pulled his head down once more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He had a sandwich for lunch, prolly toasted cheese ‘cus I ate all the salami. See? There, there’s crumbs on the plate. He had tea and he’s still not finished that book, e’en though you already ‘duced the ending for him.” She pointed at the paperback that had fallen out of John’s lap and was lying on the rug at his feet. Her lips pressed together and her eyes narrowed. “He went somewhere. His shoes are on. And his jacket was hanging downstairs when we left but now it’s on the chair.” Her whisper was rising in pitch as she gained momentum. She spun suddenly, moving to the kitchen door. “No coffee! The mug you got out for ‘im is still there! He read the paper, but only about the sports. You weren’t here, so he didn’t hafta read ‘bout the crimes to you.” She motioned to the Times, which was still folded neatly together, with the exception of the Sports section. It was hastily refolded back on itself, set next to Sherlock’s microscope. “Oh! He cleaned up our science mess. We left slides on the table, I know we did. And…” She bit her lip as she craned her neck. “And he did the dishes.” She nodded, pleased with herself as she turned her face up to Sherlock to see his reaction. “How’d I do?” Her hands clasped together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grinned at her, nearly speechless with love for this small person. “Very well done! Excellent observation skills.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She frowned slightly. “Yes, but… what did I </span>
  <em>
    <span>miss?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” A crease appeared between her eyebrows as she scanned the room once more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled and immediately sensed that he had woken John up. He’d forgotten to be quiet, pleased as he was with his little Boswell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sh’lock? Rosebud?” John’s voice was slurry with sleep and Sherlock felt a pang of guilt. He flashed an ‘oops’ face at Rosie and tiptoed into the kitchen, his finger pressed against his lips. She followed, her lips pressed together solemnly and her eyes twinkling, but instead of going into the kitchen for a snack, she beelined straight for the back of John’s chair, throwing her arms around his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Surprise!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>John’s surprised laugh filled Sherlock with the warm glow of </span>
  <em>
    <span>home</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He didn’t think he’d ever tire of that sound, not as long as he lived. From the kitchen, he leaned against the pocket door and watched as Rosie relayed the events of their day together. Her eyes were bright, her hands animated as she told John all about the group of footballers in Trafalgar Square, identifiable by their tanned arms, face and knees, with much paler skin on their lower legs where their socks and shinpads covered and about the woman with the crinkly eyes that Sherlock had deduced was a librarian, based on the cadence of her voice. They’d sat next to some Baltic Sea fishermen at the chip shop, spotted by the tiny scars on their hands. They had regaled Rosie with colourful accounts of their adventures, and made her a paper hat from an extra chip paper they snagged from Louis, the shop owner. John listened to all of this, asking questions occasionally and laughing at all the right parts. When Rosie was finished, she hopped off of John’s lap, running through into the kitchen. She paused when she reached Sherlock and gave him a tight squeeze around the waist, declaring that ‘that was the best day </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Daddy!’ before grabbing an apple from the bowl on the worktop and dashing upstairs to her room, presumably to write down her notes from the day, as Sherlock had instructed her to do. She informed him that she was going to build her very own “brain castle”, and the very first room would have memories from this day in it. Sherlock felt a bit misty at the idea, but was saved from his lachrymose thoughts by John. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good day?” John tipped his head back, looking at Sherlock upside-down. His face was sunny, warm and open and Sherlock pushed himself off the wall, needing to kiss it immediately. John chuckled at the bizarreness of an upside-down kiss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excellent. She’s quite the prodigy. Clearly, she takes after me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And with all the modesty to boot, I bet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Obviously. How was your day? Relaxing?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm… a bit. Oddly quiet though, without you lot.” John kissed him again, pulling him round to the front of his chair. “Missed you. Glad you’re home. How about another deduction?” John waggled his eyebrows, pulling Sherlock clumsily down onto his lap. He tipped his ear in the direction of the stairs with a cheeky grin and stage-whispered. “I think she’ll be busy for a bit… care to work out what we should do?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock grinned back, kissing John before getting to his feet and taking John by the hand to lead him to the bedroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t even need to be a genius to work this one out. She’ll be busy in her brain castle for a bit. Let’s go!” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
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